


Let There Be Change

by neverlandlumos



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:10:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverlandlumos/pseuds/neverlandlumos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo learns a lot more about Thorin than he originally planned to, not that he was complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let There Be Change

**Author's Note:**

> neverlandlost.tumblr.com

“Why does Thorin not have a wife or child?” Bilbo asks Balin over dinner, hesitantly. He knows it is truly none of his business, and now that he has asked feels nosy and flushes. Dwalin, next to his brother, raises an eyebrow at the sudden question. Bilbo shrugs and attempts to come across as nonchalant and making mere conversation.

“Not entirely sure, lad. Should ask him yourself.” Dwalin responds, and Balin nods, smiling somewhat around his pipe. Bilbo scoffs, scandalised at the idea. He frowns to himself. “Why aren’t either of you married?” He asks, smiling. Dwalin throws his hands up in mock surrender, and informs him he is too loyal to the King to be bothered by a wife or babe. He learns that Dwalin is general in the Blue Mountains army and trains young lads to become warriors.

Bilbo also learns that dwarves can sleep, and will sleep absolutely anywhere. Most of the party slumbers, except himself, Thorin, Balin, Nori, Bofur and Fili. Kili is slouched almost uncomfortably over his brother, drooling unpleasantly on Fili’s thigh.

He walks over hesitantly, though smiling at Balin’s request for him to join them. Bilbo locks eyes with Thorin for several seconds, whose face remains blank and uncaring as he smokes his pipe. The exiled king turns away and peers into the fire. Most of the company, including even Thorin, have drank several mugs of ale supplied by Beorn. The air is friendly, no longer tense by awkwardness of dwarves who are unsure of how to act and behave around Bilbo.

He smirks as he listens to Bofur and Nori making fun of Thorin, though in good heart. Balin scoffs at their words, though in agreement. Bilbo cannot catch the words they are saying, and ask them to repeat themselves. Thorin raises a hand to deny them, but Bofur calls over to him. “Jus’ makin’ some fun at Thorin’s expense, lad, in the good ol’ days. When the King was a frisky young lad.” Bofur waggles is eyebrows comically at Thorin and yelps when Thorin reaches for him and punches him harshly in the arm.

“Obviously, my priorities have changed since then,” Thorin says, annoyed at having to defend himself. He glares down at Bofur, who lays on the ground laughing to himself, though clutching his arm. Fili trains his face to stop laughing when Thorin glares at him. Nori’s face turns into that of slow realisation and barks out a loud laugh, and Bilbo is somewhat surprised he hasn’t woken the Company. Thorin gives him suspicious eyes and growls in his throat when Nori exclaims happily, “remember that whole sordid affair thing, Balin? When Thorin was sleeping with the general’s son, Beron?” Balin nods, chuckling.

Bilbo’s eyes widen in shock. Thorin likes men. He feels his heart lurch at the thought, hope spreading through him easily. He does however, squirm at the thought of Thorin being pleasured by other dwarves but attempts to block out those thoughts with a cringe.

“Shut up, Nori!” Thorin snaps, irate, but does not hurt Nori in the way he did Bofur, who protests loudly at the behaviour, still clutching his sore arm. “Or….” Nori begins again and Thorin shuts his eyes, puffing on his pipe angrily. Fili pats his uncle’s leg in mock comfort, smiling at Thorin.

“… what was his name? Nílr? Odd dwarf, taller than you, Thorin, quite pushy…” Nori was cuff off by Thorin throwing his empty dinner bowl in his face, and Fili barks out a laugh as it collides with Nori’s cheekbone. Balin reaches over in sympathy and checks the cheek for any damage, other than Nori’s ego at not catching it. Bofur laughs on, forcing Thorin to let out a small chuckle for the first time.

Bofur sobers up some when Bilbo looks at Thorin in surprise. “Don’t worry ‘bout him, laddie. Dwarves can sleep with whoever they wish, but they only love other dwarf once. Loved back or not,” Bofur explains. “When he was a youngen, like a lot of others, sleep wi’ who they wish before they settle down, lad.”

“Oh,” Bilbo says lamely.

“I assume Hobbits follow a different custom,” Thorin states, eyebrow raised. “Share it.”

Bilbo clears his throat, feeling awkward when all eyes fall on him. “Well, in the Shire, we don’t really sleep with whoever. There’s a lot of courting involved. We only have sex with people that we, uh, love… I guess,” he attempts, tips of his ears growing pink. Thorin dips his head at his words, and Balin nods. Bofur scrunches his face him, attempting what Bilbo assumes is disgusted.

“That sucks!” Bofur informs him, “what if you don’t love ‘em, but you want to have sex with ‘em?”

Bilbo shrugs and claps his hands together. “You don’t have sex with them.” He says, and Bofur scoffs at his words, uttering that the custom was stupid and unfair, and surely Bilbo agrees, but customs and traditions run deep in every race, hard to ignore, and hard to disobey although unspoken rules. Thorin’s expression is surprised by Bilbo’s newest additions to the custom, if anything, his eyes sympathetic.

“Odd,” Thorin says, relighting his pipe. “Do you have a population problem amongst Hobbits?” Thorin exhales, turning slightly so that Bilbo has almost his entire attention. Fili groans when Thorin moves, and re-curls to his uncle, searching warmth having fallen asleep. Bilbo notices the others have retired to their bedrolls, Bofur taking first watch on the designated log.

“Population problem?” He asks confusedly, reaching for his own pipe.

“Aye,” Thorin says, “too many of your kind.”

“Oh no, nothing of that sort,” Bilbo says once he realises the question’s meaning. “Some traditions just stick, unfortunately. I also didn’t realise that dwarves cared much for reproducing.”

“In some aspects we do, for our race to live on. Dwarves are greedy in many aspects, Master Baggins, we have sex for it’s pleasure not so much it’s purpose.”

Bilbo flushes hotly.

Thorin smirks at his discomfort and reaches to caress Fili’s cheek, pulling Kili’s arm from it’s awkward position and placing it on Fili’s calf, the two laying in a mess of limbs that Thorin eventually gives up trying to sort. He places the bedroll more firmly under Kili’s head, pinching his cheek when the youngest whimpers in his sleep, and moves so Fili rests against him, head pressing to Thorin’s chest.

Bilbo smiles at the sight and asks, “They are like your own children?”

Thorin looks at him for a long minute but gives him a small nod. “Two births weakened my youngest sister, Dís. One birth is still a rarity in our race, and to bear two puts a lot of strain on the body. I helped raise them more so when their father was killed in battle when they were only young lads. Taught them how to fight, how to braid and so on.”

“Never wished for one of your own, though?” Bilbo asks hesitantly, picking his nails for something to do or to feign nonchalance, he doesn’t know.

“Nay,” Thorin replies. “I care not for the company of women.”

“I see,” Bilbo replies, offering the King a comforting smile in response, unsure if dwarves care for the opinions of others. He knows that some other races are wary of chatter about their sexualities, and same-gender relations are even considered taboo. Bilbo knows that dwarves do not condone marriages, and welcome them due to the shortage of their own women, but the personal effects as such may be different to Thorin. 

“I have indulged,” Thorin says, his face blank, though a small frown begins to appear as he speaks. “I have enjoyed the company of both. Women require more… attention, more care. I do not have the time for such things.”

Bilbo nods in agreement and smirks, unable to control himself. He feels a sense of relief, he knows his feelings for the dwarf-king surely leave him blind like a love sick fool, but he cannot stop it. The contrast with the Thorin that sits beside him today, seems like a whole different dwarf than the one Bofur and Nori and Balin mentioned, frisky and seductive, eager with his pleasures and happy to indulge another’s wants and needs. Bilbo flushes at the thought and shifts on the log.

It annoys Thorin, his shifting around. The dwarf-king gives him an irate look, clamping a large hand over his kneecap. Bilbo becomes flushed and jittery in Thorin’s presence, unable to quell his own thoughts and attractions. He clears his throat loudly, avoiding Thorn’s gaze like the plague.

“Why is it always you, halfling?” Thorin asks with a raised eyebrow. “Very stuck in my ways before you came along.”

Bilbo startles and drops his pipe before hastily picking it up, cursing when the pipe weed mixes with the dirt. He feels his emotions skyrocketing through his body, nerves thrumming under his skin and sweat gathering in his palms. “Wh-what ways?” Bilbo stutters, breathing deeply to regain some self control.

Thorin snorts. “I am getting old, Master Baggins. Reaching the time in my years where you think about could have been.”

Bilbo blinks slowly, his tone dipping in volume though gathering hope. “You never met your love? Life partner?”

The exiled king tilts his head to the side, and purses his lips. “I don’t know. Possibly,” he says, “probably. My priorities have changed.”

Bilbo grows tired of acting coy. He lays a gentle hand on Thorin’s leg, as not to scare him away. Thorin turns to him slowly with a small smirk and gives him a small nod. Bilbo smiles at him, broadly. He leans forward, into Thorin’s personal space. Thorin tilts his head in response. “Maybe that’s a good thing, you know. Change can be good.” He kisses the king then, cradling Thorin’s face in his smaller hands. He feels Thorin’s hands wind around him, strong and heavy, resting against the small of his back and his left hip. Bilbo does not attempt to find skin, knowing Thorin is covered in layers upon layers. He can touch his neck, and finds comfort in the thudding of Thorin’s pulse.

Bilbo pulls away but smiles at the king, who winks at him. He would have gone in for another kiss, but the movements have woken Fili, who stares up at them in wonder, head still resting against Thorin, and Bilbo thinks, possibly horror. He lets out a shrill shriek and kicks his brother awake with, “Eeeewwwwwwwwww! Uncle Thorin and Master Baggins just kissed! Congratulations! But what the fuck, Uncle, you’re so gross!”

Thorin stares at them, the now newly awoken members of the company roll over in their sleep and pay them no heed. Thorin flails his arms about in wonder at their words, contradictory at its best, and orders them to silence in Khuzdul when they begin to make too much noise. Bilbo kisses Thorin chastely when the brothers are settled, and buries his head in Thorin’s robes, sighing contently.

 

\- fin


End file.
